Perfect
by ecfan1968
Summary: ron and hermione finally hook up! how does it happen in my head? find out! my first fanfic! just a rh fluffy oneshot, though fluff is good in my opinion. ah well. hope you like it! please review!


I looked around the dark, torch-lit great hall, and the noisy conversation of the students showed that they seemed particularly happy that day. I, however, was particularly grumpy looking at dinner that day, with my clothes very wrinkled, bags under my eyes, and my flame-orange hair tussled and messy, as my hands had been running through it constantly. Harry, busy downing his oatmeal and reading his textbook, assumed I looked like this because of the charms exam that we both were going to fail tomorrow. Little did he know that I was down due to charms of a different sort. I had been up all night thinking about her. Again and again, she just ran through my mind, tormenting me. I knew what Harry and Ginny said but it couldn't be true, she was too good for me.

It was just then that I was pulled out of my thoughts by something Harry said.

"Hey, Hermione, maybe you can help us out?"

I looked up and saw her. "Hey, 'Mio…ne…"

I suddenly realized how beautiful she looked just then. In my opinion she looked more beautiful than she did hat night at the Yule ball three years ago, even if she was just wearing normal clothes. I saw how amazing she looked, but she just blushed and said, "Ummm, Ron are you okay?"

"Wonderful,…" I said. "Listen," regaining my composure, "you want to go up to the common room and study for Charms?"

"Umm…sure, I wasn't that hungry anyway. Harry, are you coming?"

"No, ill leave you two alone," he sad, grinning in that knowing way he did and elbowing me in the ribs, his green eyes on fire. Hermione somehow missed that comment and I would have scowled if that hadn't been exactly what I wanted to hear.

When we got back to the common room, the first thing Hermione said made me want to do back-flips. "Let me just change into something a bit more comfortable than these robes, okay?"

Hermione, the love of my life, felt she needed to change into something more comfortable to study with me? "Maybe…no, don't get your hopes up Weasley," I thought.

It was then that my heart melted. The next thing I saw was Hermione walking back down the staircase. She wore jeans that showed off her hips, which I longed to have my hands on someday. She also wore a tank top, which was pink, a little bit girly for Hermione, but I didn't mind, since it was just small enough to drive me mad thinking about what was under it, but not too small to keep me from just thinking.

Regardless of what she thought of her figure, I thought she had the best curves of any girl I knew. She walked in that almost goddess-like way that she did, and it could have just been me, but I swore her feet were a good foot off the ground. I then looked up to see the face that I dreamed about nightly. I loved everything about it. Her nose, small and slightly upturned, with the few freckles splashed on it. How I wished I could connect those dots to say, "I love you, 'Mione"… Her full lips were in a smile, and I imagined I was kissing them. How I wish I could, but she doesn't know I exist as a guy, just as a friend, remember?

Anyway, those lips, like two strawberries in their redness and sweetness (or at least I imagined in their sweetness)…sigh. I would stare at them all day if I could. And her eyes…I was in heaven. Those dark chocolate eyes, how much I loved the way they lit up when she had aced a test or when she received a compliment, how I wanted those eyes to look at me the same way my blue ones looked at her. They were so soft, so caring, so loving, so sweet, so sensitive, so calm. And there was her hair. Others would call it frizzy, but I preferred curly, since I couldn't bear insulting the hair I longed to stroke. She had it pulled up into a bun (unusual for her), but a few curls hung around her face, making her all the more attractive to me. There was only one word to describe the way she looked right then. Perfect. And Stunning, and well I made my point. She looked amazing, but don't get me wrong. I liked her for more than her looks.

She was the smartest girl in our year, and I found it amazing how she was so dedicated to her studies. Just like I was dedicated to her. She was a nice and caring friend, too, and when we weren't fighting (I hated it when we fought) she always knew the right thing to say. She was also very sensitive, and even formed S.P.E.W. when she thought the working conditions of house-elves were unfavorable (Secretly, I applauded her for forming S.P.E.W., even though I never admitted it. I loved every aspect of her personality, every nuance, not to mention every inch of her gorgeous body, like I said. I couldn't believe so much could go through my head in the time it took for a girl to walk down a staircase. It was then that it hit me. Now was the time. I couldn't put it off any longer.

She was now blushing profusely as I was grinning and gaping at her, and she asked the same question she had earlier:

"Ron, you're sure you're okay? Is there something wrong with me?"

Going bright red, I sad, "No, nothing's wrong with you, you're perfect, in fact…"

"W-what?" she stumbled.

"I said you're perfect! At least to me you are!"

"Ron, is this meant to be an insult? You're being sarcastic aren't you? I can't believe I got my hopes up, I thought that you would… oh Merlin, I dressed for you and everything!" She sobbed, and began to run up the staircase.

My mind was spinning…got her hopes up? Thought I would what? DRESSED for me? It then hit me a second time. "HERMIONE!" I yelled as she reached the top of the stairs. I was now crying too.

"What, Ron?" she said coldly, no longer crying. Oh I hated it when she was angry.

"'Mione, please, it seems like you were preparing for a let down," I said, following her up the stairs. "I do think you're perfect, and I mean that. And…" my voice trailed off.

"A-and what, R-ron?" she said, her voice much softer, and her face going red again.

"And I love you. I always have, and I always will. You're the only one for me, 'Mione, and I only want to be with you. I can't believe I waited so long to tell you. Just say you love me too and I'll be yours forever." I waited for her response. She began to cry. Again.

"Of course…you don't…what was I thinking…I shouldn't be surprised…" It was what she did next that surprised me. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me.

"Oh Ron," she said, "of course I love you! I just didn't know you felt the same!"

I was so happy I could have screamed from the common room window, "HERMIONE GRANGER LOVES ME!" I wrapped my hands around her middle as she wrapped hrs around my neck and we kissed. It was a deep, passionate kiss, and I learned that I was wrong. Her lips were better than any strawberry I've ever tasted before or since. We kissed for minutes, getting more passionate, until we finally broke apart. She was still crying.

"Why are you crying, 'Mione?" I asked.

"Because," she sobbed, "all my dreams just came true."

"I love you so much 'Mione."

"I love you so much as well."

We kissed again.

…

"And that's how we got together," Ron said to his son, Jim, who was 10 and had brown hair and blue eyes, and his daughter, Jane, who was eight and had red hair and brown eyes, as they sat in the quaint master bedroom on a warm June night in the small town of Ottery St. Catchpole.

"That was a great story dad!" they exclaimed.

"Yes it was," said Hermione. "I always wondered how you felt that day."

"Something like this," Ron said, and kissed her. "Now you kids should be going to bed, it's late."

"Awwww…" they trudged off to their rooms.

"Now where were we?" asked Hermione.

"Right here, love," said Ron, as he kissed her even more passionately than they did that night exactly fifteen years ago. They fell asleep in each others' arms, and when they woke up the next morning, Ron said to his wife:

"You're perfect."


End file.
